


Hemiplegia

by amidatelian



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Tender Sex, oops! lots of feelings!!, was supposed to be just truckin and fuckin but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22970062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidatelian/pseuds/amidatelian
Summary: Keeler learns a rather surprising fact about Encke.
Relationships: Encke/Keeler (Starfighter)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Hemiplegia

**Author's Note:**

> title is taken from hemiplegia by haerts, which has nothing to do with anything, other than that I like its vibe for this fic.

“So you... you’ve _never?_ With _anyone?_ ” Keeler’s voice was incredulous, but not unkind, echoing in the darkness of their shared room. Encke could feel his face heat, voice caught in his throat when his navigator slumped forward so that his long hair spilled over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.... I just thought, you’re really handsome, and, uh....” Keeler huffed, a little self-conscious laughter just for himself. “I’m really making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

Truly, it had been nothing but a mess from the first. Keeler, desperate to hide his flaws, and Encke, desperate to hide his attraction and the softness that would leave him too vulnerable as the foremost fighter on the Sleipnir. It was easier with just the two of them, in a place where they needed no pretending. With the ongoing mutiny and the toll of running the ship in the interim, both privacy and time to spare were in terribly short supply. And now Keeler was sure he was sticking his foot so far down his throat that he could gag, glad for the dim lighting in the room so that maybe his blush wouldn't be too readily apparent. 

For once, they weren’t both so exhausted that they collapsed into bed the moment they were able, moving from one side of the room to the other depending on who came in first. Tonight, it had been Keeler, washed and hair already mostly dry when Encke arrived. He had looked serene enough, reading something on his personal pad that set his face aglow, but it was the sheet draped _just so_ over his naked hips that was proof enough that his evening intentions were, perhaps, not so innocent at all. It was a forthrightness that Encke appreciated after so long without, even if it felt like the pounding of his heart was about to break his ribs at the sight. 

“You don’t need to apologize. I know it isn’t.... typical, for a fighter.” Encke couldn’t help but avert his eyes, even as he dared to put a hand on Keeler’s. “There just wasn’t ever the right time, or person, or situation. I didn’t want to force it. And being a commander’s son, there was always this pressure...” he trailed off as Keeler’s fingers moved to lace with his own, a gentle, reassuring gesture. Encke blew out a breath, setting his nose to Keeler’s hair. Was it so wrong if he admitted that he wanted his first time to be special? That he had wanted to wait for love?

Keeler’s thumb caressed the back of his hand, a soft hum of thought. “I hadn’t considered that, but I suppose it isn’t so unlike me, not wanting anyone to find out about my... condition,” He shifted until his head tucked neatly against Encke’s jaw, his lips brushing his fighter’s throat with every other word. “Not that I’m exactly chaste myself; in the hospital, those wards, with everyone who doesn’t even know if they’ll make it another week, or another day... at some point I stopped caring about love, because comfort was well enough.” There was a deep silence, and Encke was sure there were plenty of memories yet lingering of the lonely times Keeler suffered, and the people who didn’t make it out. Then, very quietly, “...I don’t want this to be the same. I don’t want- I don’t want to be humored, I want to be-“

“Loved?” Encke offered, perhaps a little too hastily. Keeler tensed and stilled before pulling back slowly, and it was only the sight of his eyes, shining like stars in the dark, that eased Encke’s heart from the pit of his stomach. 

“Y... yeah,” Keeler stumbled, lips twitching as if he couldn’t seem to settle between relieved laughter or embarrassment. “Loved is... that sounds nice. If you'd like it. If you'd have me.” He reached for Encke’s face, cupping it in both his hands, waiting for confirmation in his fighter’s short nod and wide eyes before pulling him down into a kiss. It tasted of salt, tears unshed in the heat of the moment, the curve of a shy smile. It wasn’t long before what started as tender began to grow filthy in some gnawing desperation to prove itself, Keeler’s tongue pressing delicately at the seam of his partner's mouth while his fingers twisted in the rough fabric of Encke’s clothes. It was that frustration that drew them apart, panting and hungry.

“Come on,” Keeler breathed, unable to help himself from touching every inch of skin as Encke pulled off his top in a rush. He hooked his nails into the waistband of Encke’s trousers next, the awkward dance of undressing settled in a few moments of fumbling. With both of them bared, Keeler dragged Encke back down, the rush of skin to skin absolutely maddening. “Encke, let me show you _everything._ ” Navigator as he was, it was second nature to guide, setting Encke to the mattress and straddling his thighs. Even with the sheet fallen away, Encke couldn’t drag his eyes from Keeler’s, enraptured and gasping _Please._

It started with touching, not much different than Encke would do himself, the few times he was alone, except it was somehow so much _better_ when it was Keeler’s hand wrapped around him. The nervousness of before had kept him from filling out much but Keeler took to the task with aplomb, his other hand set on Encke’s side for balance as he sat back. Unsure of what to do, Encke’s hands settled at Keeler’s thighs, squeezing and stroking the soft skin in time with the navigator’s ministrations. It must have been at least somewhat right, as Keeler sighed in appreciation and flexed his toes against the mattress. 

“You can touch me, if you want,” Keeler smiled gently, hair beginning to stick to his forehead where it beaded with sweat. “You don’t have to – I just wanted you to know, it’s okay, anything’s fine if it’s you.” His eyes had begun to close, heavy as if in a dream, and oh, Encke _wanted._ The pale expanse of Keeler’s skin was like silk under his hands, warm and giving wherever he touched, tracing the navigator’s legs to his hips, thumbs pressing against the crest of bone and the downward slope of muscle until Keeler shuddered. It was impossible to miss the way Keeler’s cock likewise twitched against Encke in appreciation, fleshy pink and beading at the tip. The sight made Encke’s mouth water and he was briefly taken aback by the thought that he had never truly considered sucking someone off before, but now with that reality in front of him, for Keeler, he would do so gladly. The thought was wholly preoccupying. 

“Mnn, cute...” Keeler giggled, knocking Encke from his trance with the hand not idly stoking a cock instead stroking Encke’s jaw, thumb pressing to a kiss-swollen lip and rubbing along the plump flesh. Had he been that transparent in his staring? “You have to tell me what you want, Encke. I don’t want to presume – you have to set the meter of this.” For a mercy, he stopped moving, granting his fighter enough brainpower to think without the distraction. Yet it was hard to decide what he wanted still, without the experience to quantify it. “Encke?” 

“Can I put my mouth on you?” The words left him in a rush, afraid that if he stayed silent, he might never get it out. Keeler’s brows raised and that surprise left Encke wondering if it had been a poor choice of words; asking to blow Keeler felt far too crass in the moment, and what was the rule on eagerness to suck someone’s dick, anyway? 

“Are you sure? It might be a little much,” Keeler relaxed again, considering. He had rarely had partners who wanted to suck him off, yet Encke seemed so endearing about it, eager even. “I had wanted this to be about you – you don’t have to do that for me.” 

Encke’s expression came to match in short order, moving from concern to a frown. “I know I don’t _have_ to, I _want_ to,” He soothed, unsure what to do with his hands and settling them on Keeler’s chest. Beneath the skin and bone he could feel the slighter man’s heart thumping, rabbit-quick like the wings of a bird. “I want you to feel good too. Let me?” Perhaps it was unfair to combine such a plea with the distraction of squeezing Keeler’s chest, thumbs pressing into his nipples until his navigator squirmed. 

“I can talk you through it,” Keeler finally relented, though truthfully, they both knew there was no fight in him at all in this matter. “But you can still stop whenever you want, you don’t-“ 

“Keeler,” Encke interrupted before the rambling could go any further, almost actually annoyed now. “You aren’t making me do anything I don’t want to do. Just because I have less experience-“

“ _No_ experience,” Keeler so helpfully supplied under his breath, and Encke rolled his eyes, pinching a nipple and making Keeler yelp.

“Just because I’m not as _learned_ as you,” He corrected anyway, if only because it was true, “Doesn’t mean you’re forcing me into anything. I trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable, and you trust me too, right?” Keeler nodded steadily, prompting him to continue and sit up further. “Then there’s no problem. So, you going to let me blow you already?” Seeing Keeler flush to his collarbones at the question left Encke feeling particularly impish, grinning just a bit. 

“Far be it from me to stop you...” The navigator puffed out his cheeks in mock irritation, his act ending with a soft _oh!_ when Encke urged him forward by grabbing his hips and pulling him up as if he weighed nothing at all. The end result had him kneeling over Encke’s chest, hands kneading his ass with his penis a hair’s breadth from the other man’s mouth. The sight alone made his brain short-circuit, and Keeler was absolutely fried when those lips brushed against him, followed by the flick of a tongue. “Holy _fuck._ ”

Encke might have laughed were it not for his focus, sucking the tip into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it slowly. The taste was more or less as he expected, the salty tang of skin and bitterness of precum levied against the warm musk of _Keeler_ making his heart race. Even if porn was a poor teacher, it was working well enough in the moment from Encke’s memory, fleeting images that showed him how to move his mouth and hollow his cheeks, swallowing his partner down eagerly. Keeler was left shaking in short order, hunched forward and flexing his hands helplessly against Encke’s shoulders. 

“Yes, just like that.... is this really your first...? _Ah!_ ” Keeler gasped and his hips bucked forward when Encke took him nearly to the root on a downward bob, pulling back off slowly and relishing the way Keeler groaned so sweetly. Flattering as it was, Encke was truthfully more pleased that Keeler was enjoying himself in the moment, that ever-present tension melted away and replaced with pleasure. Nails scratched gently over the shaved sides of his head, his ears, along the back of his skull, prompting him to look up and oh, Keeler really was too beautiful, his lower lip caught between his teeth and his face contorted in concentration. 

“Oh Encke, _Encke_ , please, I’m so close, Encke...!” Keeler whimpered, a warning if the fighter had ever heard one, and one that he fully had no intention of heeding at that. If he was doing this, he wanted as much of the experience as possible, not content to stop when Keeler was begging for relief. Instead he redoubled his efforts, a hand pressed to Keeler’s lower back to keep him from pulling away while the other preoccupied itself with touching everywhere his mouth couldn’t reach, blunt nails scratching up the tender inside of Keeler’s thighs to fondle his sac in the palm of his hand. Keeler _howled_ , spilling into Encke’s mouth and down his throat. Even forewarned Encke nearly choked, swallowing as best as he was able to manage while the remainder dribbled out down his chin. The taste left something to be desired, but he had taken far worse before, head falling back to the pillow with a sound both wet and obscene when Keeler slid between his lips.

“Oh my god, Encke, _Encke_ ,” Keeler continued to croon even as his orgasm finished winding its way through his bones, shivering and weak. Encke himself barely had time to wipe his mouth and reassess the throbbing in his cock before Keeler had collapsed bodily against him, mouthing kisses along his throat through shuddering breaths. Encke really could do little more than hold him, stroking the ridges of his spine as he calmed, the ache in his own jaw and the phantom sensation of smooth skin sliding along his tongue heady and intoxicating. It wasn’t long before Keeler made his way to kissing him again, uncaring of the taste of himself as he sucked Encke's lip between his teeth. When he pulled back to catch his breath, Encke could almost see the reflection of himself in Keeler's eyes, pupils blown wide and dark.

“I want you to fuck me,” Keeler’s voice was hardly above the ambient hum of the ship but the request was all the other man could hear, Encke taking a sharp breath to keep from going lightheaded at the idea. There was little he could think to do or say except _Yes_ ; nothing else seemed adequate in the moment, and he would much rather use his mouth to kiss Keeler’s pretty lips bruised. Keeler’s final kiss before sitting up was searing, muttering “ _just wait, just wait,_ ” while he leaned to the bedside table. The bottle of lube he fetched was decently used, leaving Encke wondering when Keeler had taken to it, and how often it was when thinking of him. 

When Keeler stood on his knees, there seemed a clear mischievous glint to his eye that made Encke excited and nervous in equal measure. “I said I would show you,” He purred, reaching down to take Encke’s hand and bring it up, popping the cap on the lube and dripping it onto his fingers. It was cold and viscous, but didn’t take long to warm to his fingers when the reality of what Keeler was doing hit and sent a flood of heat through Encke’s body. “Nice and slow, okay? Just one at a time.” It hardly seemed adequate instruction but Encke didn’t protest, allowing Keeler to guide his hand between his legs. He had always been a fast learner, anyway.

He teased a single finger against Keeler’s rim, rubbing and pressing without breaching, nervous of moving too quickly; yet Keeler was as ready to navigate this as he was space, telling him _more_ until his finger slid inside. It was tight, and hot, and the idea of having this part of Keeler wrapped around him was a reminder of just how painfully hard he already was. It wasn’t helped by the groan Keeler let out either, rocking back into his hand and asking for another. Encke’s fingers were a good bit thicker than his own, but he relished the burn of them stretching him open, callouses a novel texture everywhere they touched. 

Every little shudder and shiver, every tension that bled away into relaxation, Encke was surprised that he could feel it so keenly just like this. At three fingers Keeler had begun to leak across Encke’s stomach again, legs slid far apart on the bedding to the point he was grinding on his hands and knees, caught between his fighter’s hand and belly. There was something in it, the repetition and the pressure, perhaps, that made Keeler melt, long hair falling like a curtain about his face when Encke’s fingers curled forward and made him gasp. Encke’s free hand reached for him, tucking Keeler’s hair behind his ear so he could see him properly, marveling as always at the softness of it, a softness rivaled in Keeler’s gaze upon him then, turning to kiss Encke's palm before he could withdraw. 

“I’m okay, I’m ready,” Keeler breathed, fumbling for the lube again and squeezing the bottle with shaking fingers. The coolness of the gel that slicked Encke’s cock made him twitch, knocking the immediate edge off somewhat even as he watched himself be stroked. “Just lay back, okay? Relax.” Keeler smoothed his hand over Encke’s belly, a lopsided smile as he raised himself up, steadying Encke’s cock in hand so that he might lower himself onto it. Encke could feel it, the stretch and the pop of the head inside, gritting his teeth to not buck up into Keeler's heat, steady and still. It felt like an eternity until Keeler finally sat astride him in full, mouth open and eyes glazed as he whimpered, rocking gently in place.

“Are you all right?” It helped a little to talk, but it was more important to know that Keeler was feeling every bit as good as he was. His navigator nodded vigorously, a hand pressed to his stomach and the other clenching Encke’s pec as if trying to keep himself grounded. 

“ _Incredible_ ,” Keeler sighed, as if experiencing something Encke couldn’t even fathom, miles away. “You’re incredible Encke, I’m so lucky....” He hummed, drawn down to Encke’s embrace by the barest of touches, kissed and held, inside and out, a feeling of being _known_ that he had once given up on surging to the forefront. Where tears pricked at the corners of his eyes his fighter kissed them away, cradling the back of his head and holding Keeler to his chest as he flipped them, settling heavy over his quivering body. Like this it felt as if Encke were pressing impossibly deep, his weight a comfort that held Keeler close between his arms. 

“Is this okay?” Encke could barely keep his own voice steady, pulled back just enough to be able to see Keeler’s face, to know for sure what he felt, what he was feeling. With his hair spread in a halo over the pillow, Encke thought he looked positively angelic, his beautiful and clever and kind navigator. When Keeler nodded and folded his ankles behind Encke’s back, his murmur of _please_ was lost when the air was punched from his lungs by Encke’s initial thrust, so much more than he could have expected, yet still not _enough_. 

Encke established an easy rhythm, gentle and even, not at all what Keeler would have expected from the top of the food chain of the Sleipnir’s fighters. But then, Encke had always been far more than what anyone expected of him, a romantic wrapped in a shell of responsibility. Such tenderness was far too rare in this world, and he was long since tired of acting like he was fine without it, like his loneliness hadn’t eaten him up the same way Encke’s duty had, craving connection like this. On Earth, his previous partners often left him lonely after the fact, but Encke wouldn’t, he wouldn’t leave him, he had _said-_

“E-Encke...!” Keeler sobbed despite himself, raw and overwhelmed, too lost in his own head. And Encke stopped cold, raising onto his elbows to see Keeler properly, always so attentive, catching him before he even knew he was falling. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” Encke soothed, stroking Keeler’s face, his hair. “Hey. Look at me?” His thumb rubbed a line along his partner’s cheek, Keeler opening tear-swollen eyes and biting back a tremble. And there he was, glowing from a light sheen of a sweat, powerful with such an unshakeable air of calm, Keeler’s rock in stormy seas. “What’s wrong?”

“I... I don’t want you to go,” Keeler’s voice was rough and his statement confusing, Encke’s brows furrowing together. “When this is all over. When we reach Earth. The court martial...” He tried to explain himself, a million miles ahead of _now_ , to a time where he’ll be put on the stand and dishonorably discharged for doctoring his records, where Encke will be ripped away from him and placed with a new navigator who won’t even know how wonderful he really is, who has never seen Encke looking at his family photo with so much love and fondness, or noticed the way he crinkles his nose when the food in the mess is too salty, his weirdly perfect cursive handwriting, or any number of things that make him so very, very lovely. 

Encke’s expression softens again, continuing to do his best to make Keeler feel present, focused on him. “I already told you. I’m not leaving you.” He presses their foreheads together, and for a moment, they breathe in tune. Keeler has his arms wrapped beneath Encke’s to hold him close, clasping helplessly against the muscle of his back. “Not now, and not when we get back to Earth. I’m with you. For as long as you want me.” It’s a promise, held between just the two of them and the cold light of the stars. Keeler’s chest _aches_ , but it’s a different ache to the kind when he’s overexerted himself, almost pleasant.

“I want you,” Keeler confesses, but it’s not much of one when Encke already knows, when Encke is inside him and around him and kissing him so softly his heart is breaking. “I want you, I want you-“ Keeler chants it breathily between kisses, mindless when he starts to twitch his hips and Encke begins again, steady like a lapping tide. 

“You have me,” Encke says it and there’s finality, there’s _promise_ , the swell of emotion in Keeler’s heart spilling over to leave him clinging tightly and begging for all Encke will give him. That familiar pressure in his stomach begins to grow again, a pleasure that makes him writhe and when Encke puts a hand to his penis Keeler is quick to pull it away, clasping it with his own in the space beside his head; he wants to explain himself but all that comes out is a broken moan, lashes fluttering under Encke’s onslaught. This is no race to the finish, and he would gladly stay suspended like this forever, awash in comfort and closeness.

But then Encke’s other hand takes him under the knee, pushing it up so that Keeler can rest it over the other man’s shoulder, this new angle deeper and _ah_ , Keeler’s back arches taut and he suddenly can’t catch his breath; it isn’t helped by the way Encke has increased his pace and is now pounding into him, the rough slap of skin echoing in their ears. Keeler is sure he must be babbling something but he can’t focus long enough to hear it, gripping Encke’s hand so tightly that his own begins to hurt. Encke doesn’t try to stroke him again, nor does he need to when Keeler shakes apart under him short order, crying out while his half-hard cock pulses weakly against his thigh. The resultant orgasm burns through his veins like nothing else he’s experienced, makes him thrash and scream and loose and tense all at once. 

It’s on that sight that Encke’s eyes are absolutely fixated, a sense of pride and helpless arousal to see Keeler so struck, writhing on his cock like the best of daydreams. He’s almost at his own limit, so close that it hurts to stop, pulling out only to be blocked by Keeler’s panicked expression, his legs gripping tight to Encke’s sides. He's too breathless to speak, but it's obvious what's upset him.

“I didn’t... There’s no condom, so...” Encke tries to explain despite his embarrassment, the inviting heat of Keeler’s body making it near impossible to arrange his thoughts coherently. He has no firsthand experience, but he had heard about the discomfort, the clean-up, and he wouldn’t put Keeler through that. Not when it was just as easy to stroke himself off on Keeler’s stomach. Keeler himself, however, scowled, propping himself on one shaking arm to grasp the back of Encke’s neck and drag him close, eyes shining. 

“You said you wouldn’t... wouldn’t leave me,” his voice quivers, but there’s something sharp-edged and wild there too, nails pricking Encke’s skin. “So _don’t leave me._ ” Keeler near-growls, planting his heel to Encke’s lower back so that the lift of his hips is unmistakable in his intent. Encke might have whimpered had he more presence of mind, but instead he plunges back in with enough force to push Keeler to the mattress, a renewed fervor and single-minded goal, lasting not a minute more before he comes deep to the sound of Keeler’s gasping encouragement cried into his mouth. Fully sated and catching their breath, Keeler allows him his space for only a moment before returning to kiss his Fighter like he can’t bear not to, open-mouthed and sweet.

“ _Encke, Encke,_ ” Keeler sighs without any purpose except the enjoyment of saying his name, touching his partner’s face, absolutely and utterly enthralled. But more than that, Encke notes, he looks so _happy_ , bone-deep satisfaction and a real smile as he curls up to his side. The sheets are disgusting at this point where they are twisted up, so Encke kicks them off the bed entirely, determined to keep Keeler warm all on his own. It’s an easy task when there's not an inch of skin untouched between them, Keeler tangling their legs together and pillowing his head on Encke’s shoulder. It’s sticky and sweaty and yet, somehow, still utterly comfortable.

The ensuing quiet is weighted and warm like a blanket settling over them, idle hands petting and tracing patterns on skin, enjoying the lingering contentment before the world outside their little room comes calling once again. 

“...Things might be a little messed-up now, with the mutiny and all,” Encke starts, stops, and isn’t that a wild understatement? Keeler pops his head up curiously, and he knows his hair must be a tangled mess, but Encke’s gaze never strays from his own. “but I’m glad I met you. That I got to know you, and we have this time together.” The sincerity would have knocked Keeler off his feet were he standing, so used to keeping others at arm’s length that he can feel his eyes watering before he buries his face back down against his fighter’s throat to pretend that he isn’t about to cry. Again. Encke’s arm tightens around him anyway.

“If I told everyone what a huge softie you are, they’d never believe me,” Keeler can’t keep the waiver out of his voice, just like he can’t keep out the smile. “...but I’m glad, too. For everything. I can’t imagine anyone else at my back. Despite everything.... I’m just.... happy. To have you.” It’s so much, too much probably, and Keeler’s face burns to admit it, but he doesn’t regret it. Encke kisses the top of his head in turn, right in the midst of his bird-nest hair, and Keeler swats at him playfully. “Look at me, you’re turning me into a big softie, too!”

“You were already a big softie.” Encke grunts, and, well. He’s not entirely wrong there. Keeler closes his eyes, the second heartbeat under his ear relaxing. Then.

“...At least I wasn’t on my way to being a thirty-year-old virgin up until about an hour ago.” Keeler mumbles, and the pillow to his face, Encke would testify, was entirely deserved.

**Author's Note:**

> arrives to throw this into the void as the comic is wrapping up, sipping a starbucks
> 
> listen I love these two and I will feed myself if I gotta and that is a PROMISE  
> twitter @amidatelian if you wanna yell at me


End file.
